Tall David Hattiesburg Hall

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david_terry_sneer

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david_jimmy_ron_jam

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jimmy_ron_dance

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Imaginary Harold, Big Harold

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David Keith, Ken Weathersby
Hattiesburg, MS ca. 1985

The Death Clock – When Am I Going To Die?

The Foo of Foophineas

Foophineas aspired to become a leader of Barville. Foophineas was a strict Foovist, however, and this posed a certain challenge to Foophineas. Citizens of Barville were mostly non-Foovists. Foovists were a significant minority in Barville. Foovists practiced Foovism. Many of the core values held by Foovists were in fact shared by most non-Foovists, but the few differences were often discussed whenever a Foovist would run for public office.

One key issue was the dietary restriction prohibiting mixing of orange juice and milk. While most non-Foovists, and no Foovists practiced this taboo, Foovists elevated the rule to a fundamental tenet.

As it happened, a medicinal use for orange juice mixed with milk was discovered, and promoted by doctors and sufferers or Rave’s disease, an insidious form of hangover that left many young victims in its wake.

When Foophineas was asked to state his position on the critical orange juice-mixed-with-milk issue, Foophineas walked the fine line. Mindful both of his many Foovist supporters and the more numerous non-Foovists, but also weighing the health care aspect of the question, Foophineas formulated his position:

“As a strict Foovian (sic), I personally would never mix orange juice with milk, I will defend a citizen’s right to do so, as the constitution obliges me to. I would rather seek alternatives such as abstaining from raves, or ask that the medical community seek less extreme measures in its treatment. But I would not penalize a doctor or a patient for pursuing whatever treatment they agree to. That is a protected civil liberty.”

Foophineas’ political opponents saw an opportunity to exploit the candidate’s delicate position. They managed to convince the Foovist leadership in Old Fooland to issue an edict admonishing Foophineas. The Foovist Arch Druid decreed that no Foovist Druid could offer Foophineas the Holy Sacrament of pure Orange Juice, because he “supported” mixing of orange juice and milk. Declining the sacrament to a strict Foovist was tantamount to excommunication, a perilous cosmic situation. In addition, this action essentially instructed millions of Foovists to vote against Foophineas in the coming election.

Opponents of Foophineas were delighted. They were evidently undisturbed by the blatant interference in a Barvillean election by a foreign sovereign, once a major concern of non-Foovists. Civil libertarians warned of the danger of foreign intervention, and of the blurring of the line between temple and state, but went unheeded. The opponents of Foophineas achieved their short term objective with no regard for any long term consequences. Foophineas was defeated, and a non-Foovist opponent of orange juice mixed with milk was elected.

Barvillean opponents of Foophineas, Foovists and non-Foovists alike cheered and rejoiced, so great was their dread of mixing orange juice and milk. Eventually the practice of mixing orange juice with milk was banned, and many young people suffered from Rave’s disease at great cost to the state. Other widely held taboos were banned, and eventually the constitution itself was banned, seen as too permissive. Finally a single (non-Foovist) set of religious rules was made law, alienating nearly everyone in Barville. But although their rights were so greatly trampled, their voice was by now all but silent, as all power was now in the hands of an elite clique of dicators, who managed to base all their decisions on an intolerant version of the dominant religion. The jails were overflowing with outlaws, and political dissent was silenced.

The cost of diminishing liberty had been paid.

No one ever knew the cost of too much liberty, and now they never would.

Hello America! It’s good to be home. Thanks for letting us back in! We love you America! We’re sorry we said all those bad things about you!

Just had pizza for lunch, and then Pink Floyd’s Have a Cigar comes on the radio. This combination of a mouthfull of pizza and the sound of Pink Floyd takes me straight back to Pizza Inn, Long Beach, ca. 1978.